RAPE PROTEST SABOTAGED
INCIDENTS of rape are not a rarity in rural India. Any attempt to bring the criminals to justice sets off a chain of reactions which prove how the entire power structure in this
country is weighted against women, especially if they happen to be Dalit, poor, working class women.
In January this year, some of us in this taluk town in western Maharashtra read a small newspaper item about the rape of a woman worker here. We decided to organize progressive public opinion in the town to condemn the criminals and demand justice in this case.
The police informed us that the attack had taken place at about 9.30 at night, on a road a little outside the town, and that it was a case of multiple rape by four men. The woman was a worker in a tobacco factory, which is a major employer of female labour in the town. The woman had been hospitalized, and had lodged the complaint a few days later. The police assured us that the matter "was being attended to".
We then held two small meetings to discuss what action we could take. College students, schoolteachers, and trade union organizers, all agreed to hold a protest demonstration. The girl students we talked to told us that the incident had already affected their freedom of movement; parents warned them against going out in the evening, and one girl was told that she might have to leave college. The girls felt that this was wrong and that the townspeople should take the responsibility of
ensuring their security. Some girls complained about eve-teasing in college and some were afraid that those who joined the morcha would be harassed by boys in college. Most trade unions also responded favourably. The trade unions here are affiliated to one political party or other. The town in general prides itself on its "progressive" tradition. Communist trade unions are influential, and political meetings are usually well attended.
We held a meeting in the office of a progressive trade union, where we fixed the date of the demonstration, and drew up a leaflet calling on citizens to join us. Some women from the factory, where the rape victim had been working, also attended. An activist from their union was present; in fact it was in that office that the meeting was held. The company for which they work is owned by a local capitalist who has several factories and is also a trustee of the local college.
The demonstration became a subject for conversation and gossip. "Who was the woman?" many people asked. "Oh, she was a loose woman", answered others. Some asked us why we were taking up the cause of a woman of "doubtful" character. We talked to as many people as possible, making the point that whatever the woman's character might be, quadruple rape was a case of terrible violence. Also, why were they keen on knowing the identity of the woman, and not that of the criminals?
We learnt from some male students that the criminals were not "goondas" but were the sons of "respectable" traders. These boys, who live near the centre of town, had been awakened at night by noises of a scuffle, when the attackers were forcibly bringing the woman to their rooms. They came out to investigate, but the night-watchman told them to keep away.
We had discussions with male college students, many of whom come from nearby villages. They felt that the protest was a significant action and agreed to mobilize support. In their experience, it is usually women from poorer classes who get raped, and because the rapists are usually men from influential families, the incidents are rarely reported. We also spoke about the oppressive relations between men and women in this society, and about how boys look at girls.
The next morning a girl student from the college came to see me. She was agitated. "The women from the tobacco factory have withdrawn their names from the leaflet. One of their union activists told us that the woman had a loose character, and the rape happened with her consent". I was at first taken aback, and then angry. I knew that the local union leaders were complacent about the status quo and acted as paid go betweens in labour disputes. But I had not expected them to actively oppose us on a social issue like this.
We women then distributed the leaflets in the town. We visited the beedi factories and spoke to women workers about the incident. These women immediately grasped the significance of the demonstration, and felt that such acts of violence against women constituted a threat to every woman's safety. However, it was hard to fight the influence of the established trade unions' politics in such a short time. As an activist said to us, "The workers are like sheep. When we tell them to come, they come". This is how the trade unions in the town function.
The next day I heard that the college principal had received
The principal called me later, told me that he had been informed by an "unprejudiced" source that the woman had not been raped, that she was a prostitute who had done it for money.
phone calls from the owner of the tobacco factory and from a trade union leader, asking him to discourage his students from participating in the morcha.
I replied that I knew the factory owner had called him, and also said that we had checked the facts. But the attitude of the principal was enough to dissuade most students from taking part.
We made one more attempt to talk to the women of the tobacco factory. This time they tried to avoid us, saying, "She was a bad woman. She doesn't work here now. She was a temporary worker. We have nothing to do with her". When we continued to press the point, they finally admitted that their "leader" had visited the factory that morning and warned them not to join in the morcha. He used a subtle argument to convince them: "If the woman had been attacked while she was going to work, or coming back from work, then it would have concerned us. As it is, this incident has nothing to do with us".
So, as usual, the woman victim of the rape, far from receiving public sympathy, has been subjected to a slander campaign conducted by the most influential members of the community- industrialist and philanthroper, working class leader, college principal.
The demonstration was small. About thirty boy students participated, but only three girls dared to face the threats and pressures brought to bear on them. About seventy or
eighty women workers also joined the action.
But there is no doubt that those who stayed at home felt a little uneasy that night.
Vandana Sonalkar